


Brave Enough to Hope

by avania



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bilbo is full of regret, Fix-It, M/M, Multi, Thank God for Yavanna, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avania/pseuds/avania
Summary: Bilbo is ready to sail to The Undying Lands and say goodbye to the life he knew. He is full of regret and the oaken tree in his garden had become nothing but a painful reminder. When the ship is taken by surprise by an unexpected wave, Bilbo welcomes the darkness with a smile.But Eru has other plans for him.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 11
Kudos: 91





	Brave Enough to Hope

Bilbo slowly inhaled, taking the fresh spring air in. The hint of salt made his nose itch and the waves hitting the ship’s sides matched his heartbeat. He had long known this day would come and he could not help but smile kindly at the elves chatting and laughing around him. But his shaking hands kept him from joining in. His breath trembled as he exhaled, hoping it would take the dull pain of his bones with it.

 _It will not be long_ , he thought. Soon he will be in The Undying Lands, where he will have the rest hehad longed for. Saying goodbye to Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin had been hard, but it were not the said things that made his heart ache. His lips twitched as he remembered The Company - His dwarves. It had been decades since they parted ways. Decades since he had said farewell and had left for Shire for good, leaving many emotions unexplored and buried deep.

He departed with everyone on a good note, or whatever the definition of good was back then. He had kept in touch with Ori and Bofur, but even that had faded with time. With each new branch of the oaken tree, with each new leaf and acorn, letters grew rarer and rarer. He had kept his promise to Thorin. He remembered every time his eyes lingered on the tree. He went back to his books and armchair, but his gaze refused to stay on the soft pages. No, instead, Bilbo kept watching the sapling until it grew into a majestic oak, shielding his humble home.

His nails scratched the polished wood as he remembered Thorin and he let his sorrows wash over him.

 _Thorin, Fíli and Kíli._ Thinking about them had always been painful. He did think on many occasions about cutting down the tree as a way of coping and moving on, but he couldn’t. Too many memories, too many words unspoken had prevented him from doing so.

He lacked the strength, the bravery required for the funerals. After watching the Dwarven king die with an apology on his lips, he could not bear it. He could not bear the possibility of having to look at Dís, at Dain, at any bloody dwarf that could attend the ceremony, with the fear of breaking down.

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so-_

A wave hit him as he was hovering over the edge, tearing him away from his thoughts. He heard screams. Orders were being shout in Sindarin. Raindrops started falling, devouring their salty mates on Bilbo’s cheeks. He turned around, relying on his old walking stick to support him.

He had a small chance to react. A large wave was on the horizon. Elrond had rushed to him, urging him to the cabin: “Hide!”

 _“It must be magic!”_ screamed a voice in Sindarin. Bilbo could barely hear it. His pupils widened and breath got stuck. Magic? The waves let him no time to think and he dashed to the cabin’s door as quickly as his old age and the rocking ship allowed him.

As soon as he was inside, he started to laugh. He fully realized that no ship could ever save him from a magical wave. And really, he should have seen it coming. He did not deserve a happy ending. He had wasted his life with head buried in books. The little good he did by raising Frodo to be a wonderful Hobbit meant nothing when he let Frodo go on the journey that should had been his to take. He let the Durins die. He betrayed the man he claimed to love with the premise of good intentions. And even after all that, he merrily boarded the elven ship with the promise of The Undying Lands.

But with all that, Bilbo could not say he regretted any of it. He was ready to die. He had lived a long life, longer than he was supposed to. And so he said down, watching elves run around him in panic. He hoped they would live. They did no deeds to suffer the death that Bilbo had welcomed so warmly.

He let out a sigh and relaxed. With closed eyes, he imagined young Frodo with a black mess he called hair, playing under the tree. He did not dare to open his hazel eyes when he felt the wave hit. The cold water made him let out the air he had left. He gagged and floated into the darkness.

Bilbo gasped as he opened his eyes in shock and pain. He started to cough and spit water around him, clutching his ribs. He moaned and rolled on his side. The Hobbit managed to look around and check his surroundings when he caught hold of his breath after a while.

There was no darkness, no water or elves around him. Just white. Bilbo looked around and saw nothing. He frowned, trying to figure out what happened and what this place could be.

He knew he was on a ship. And that a wave had hit them. Well, that would explain the water he so gracefully vomited. He massaged his sore throat and stood up.

 _I’m dead_ , Bilbo thought. _Finally_. He looked around once more to make sure he didn’t miss anything. This did not look like the afterlife he was promised. There was no food, no people, no Eru. Had he been too naive to think that he deserved a good place to rest? He would chuckle if his ribs didn’t hurt.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I couldn’t let you sail to The Undying Lands, could I?” Said a voice behind him. Bilbo jumped and swiftly turned around. Nobody was there just a few moments ago. And yet his eyes saw one of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“That is certainly flattering but I’m afraid we should pick up the pace, we don’t have much time left,” she sighed and stepped closer to the very confused Hobbit. He was sure he didn’t say it out loud.

“I’m Yavanna, and your prayers have been answered,” she simply stated and smiled. “You’re lucky that Eru likes you.” Bilbo opened his mouth and closed it again. His mind was blank as the space around him. He had heard of Yavanna and Eru, but he had never been a devout believer. He remember his mother’s altar of Yavanna in her garden, telling him that she watches over all living things.

“Yes, that’s me,” Yavanna chuckled. So it is true, she is real. And she can read minds. Or maybe Bilbo is simply drowning somewhere in the middle of the ocean and this is a way of self-preservation.

“So, as I said, we don’t have much time. Your body will drown soon, and then I won’t be able to save you. So listen carefully. It was Eru that put the One ring in your path, and who guided your mother on her adventures so she could meet Mithrandir. Or rather, Gandalf the Gray, as you know him. He has always been fond of you Tooks, I don’t know why, though,” Bilbo wanted to say something but Yavanna raised his hand to stop him.

“Shush, listen. I know it’s hard to comprehend, but you will have to trust me,” she frowned. Bilbo started to cough out more water.

“Last time didn’t go so well for you, or the others. So The One is giving you a chance to do it once more. But please do things differently, no one likes re-reading a book they just finished. Maybe save a Durin or two,” Yavanna winked at the Hobbit, who hadn’t stop gagging on ocean water.

Bilbo was falling down and felt like drowning once more. He tried to desperately catch some air and to get a good look on the goddess. His head was spinning, his insides were screaming for oxygen.

But when he fell, the need was gone. He was sitting on a bench with a pipe in his mouth. The sun was shining. He could hear the birds singing tunes he thought he had forgotten. Bilbo was trying to make sense of it. Of why he was in front of his home, why his bones felt lighter, back less hunched and legs full of life. He span his head, but all was as he remembered. Bilbo felt sure that this was the place he grew up in, where he raised Frodo. Was what Yavanna told him true? Or did he just hallucinate it all? He decided it couldn’t be the latter. The scenes in his head and the empty space in his heart fell too real for it.He started hyperventilating, catching breath again. He was getting rather tired of it. A strange feeling had washed over him as he realized that it was all true. He had another chance. And even if this was just a dream, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that he had the option to do things differently.

Bilbo always proudly thought of himself as a quick thinker. And so with a smug smile, he started plotting, waiting for a wizard to arrive.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic in over 3 years! A few weeks ago I rewatched the Hobbit and LOTR and I got into the fandom again. And so this fic happened!
> 
> I will welcome any notes, kudos and comments you have! 
> 
> You can also find me here: https://the-scarletsoldier.tumblr.com


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